I freeze. I can’t believe I just said that. Asked that.
The truth tumbles out in my tired voice, barely above a whisper.
A truth I rarely admit and almost never out loud.
But today, my resolve is frayed. And maybe it’s easierthis way, talking to someone who doesn’t really know me. Someone who lives behind a screen, thousands of miles away.
Someone who can’t see the mess I am and won’t look away when he hears it anyway.
The voice note sits there, timestamped and glowing like it’s mocking me.
Why did I say that? Why now?
I close my eyes and rest my head against the sofa cushions, trying not to spiral.
Thirty seconds pass.
Then a minute.
Then,ping.
My phone lights up with a new voice message. My chest tightens as I press play.
“Fangirl…”
His voice is low. Gentle. A little rough around the edges, like he just woke up or hasn't slept yet. Hearing my nickname in his voice makes my stomach flip.
“I don’t know what to say, except… yeah. I feel it too. All the time.”
My breath catches.
“But you? You have nothing to feel inadequate about. You’re brilliant. And brave. And funny as hell.” A pause. Then, softer, “And for what it’s worth… I really like your voice, it’s low and sultry, and your accent? Sexy as hell.”
Warmth rushes through me unexpectedly. It spills down my spine and settles low in my chest, right where the pain usually lives.
I press the phone to my heart like an idiot. He likes myvoice.
His voice… God, I could listen to it on a loop. It’s deep and calm, edged with a wry kind of humor that feels like balm over raw nerves.
He’s a stranger. A friend. And somehow, today, a lifeline.
Ping.
Another voice note pops up.
“Tell me, who do I need to slay? Who do I need to punish for making you feel that way?”
I blink. A laugh bubbles up soft and unexpected.
My body, I think.
This traitorous, aching, utterly unreliable thing I’m stuck in.
But I don’t say that.
Not yet.
Instead, I hug the phone tighter and let myself feel it—the warmth in his voice, the sincerity in his question, and the way he doesn’t even hesitate to go full protective-mode over something I barely admitted.
